


Waiting for a Counterfeiter

by Treon



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 13:30:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6987013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treon/pseuds/Treon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal and Diana are on a stakeout</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting for a Counterfeiter

**Author's Note:**

> Written for wcpairings for doctor_fangeek

It was an evening stakeout. Neal and Diana were parked in a car, up the street from their surveillance target. Their suspect, a Scott Campbell, worked at a bank, and the Feds got a couple of tips that he was distributing counterfeit bills. The White Collar team didn't think Campbell was capable of running a counterfeiting operation on his own, and suspected that he was linked up with a professional gang. They just had to discover how and where he was meeting them to get the money.  
  
The car was a standard issue federal sedan, with a lingering stale smell and the usual uncomfortable seats. Diana was scanning the area with her binoculars, leaving Neal to grumble about the unfairness of it all. His days belonged to the FBI, there was no reason his evenings should be taken up with federal matters as well.  
  
It wasn't looking like a very interesting evening, either, which wasn't that unusual for a stakeout. The suspect in question had come home after work, and seemed to be quite happy to stay there.  
  
"I'm bored," Neal finally announced.  
  
"I have a gun," Diana shot back.  
  
"Funny." Neal chuckled weakly. At least, he hoped it was a joke.  
  
After a long pause, he tried again. "Is Peter punishing me? This is the third stakeout I'm doing this week."  
  
Diana shot him a sidelong glance. Their caseload had multiplied recently, and Peter couldn't get the higher-ups to authorize more manpower. _Everybody_ was pulling double shifts.  "You do realize I'm pulling another shift after this one, right?"  
  
Peter wanted Neal for an early morning meeting with an art collector who might have info on a new up-and-coming forger, so he'd released his CI from the night shift.  
  
"You're saying it could be worse?"  
  
"Much."  
  
Neal sighed in resignation.  
  
Diana focused back on her binoculars. "Don't tell me you didn't pull all-nighters back when you were a thief."  
  
Neal grinned. "I might have. Allegedly."  
  
"Uh-huh. I bet _that_ wasn't boring."  
  
"Nope." Neal agreed.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well, because..." he trailed off. Sitting on a mark for a possible score was exciting with the thrill of danger, promising riches at the end of the rainbow. Sitting on an FBI stakeout promised filling out forms in triplicate the next morning. But how could he possibly explain that to an FBI agent?  
  
Diana's phone beeped with an incoming message, distracting her. She handed the binoculars over to Neal. "Here, your turn."  
  
While Diana busied herself with her phone, Neal craned his neck to look. The message was from Christie, though he couldn't make it out. He glanced at Diana, and noted her troubled frown. "Trouble on the home-front?"  
  
Diana's head snapped up with the sudden realization that Neal was reading her messages, and she turned her phone away from Neal. "Do you mind?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Eyes on the target!" she ordered.  
  
But Neal didn't hurry to comply. He took a stab at figuring out the problem. "Must be difficult pulling night shifts when there's somebody waiting for you at home."  
  
Diana was typing up her response. "Not that it's any of your business, but she just happens to be pulling a night shift too."  
  
"Convenient. Okay, so-"  
  
"Keep your eyes on the target!"  
  
Neal raised the binoculars to his eyes and scanned the entrance of Campbell's house. Nothing seemed to be happening. Which was about the sum amount of activity for the past three hours he'd been sitting here. "Is there a problem at the hospital?"  
  
"What hospital?" Diana didn't follow.  
  
"Where Christie's working."  
  
Diana rolled her eyes. She couldn't understand why Neal was still harping on the issue. "Would you drop it?"  
  
Neal didn't really want to drop it, but he figured he wasn't going to get further with the current approach. "Yeah, okay."  
  
He put down the binoculars, thinking. "How about I go out, sniff around a bit?"  
  
"We don't have a warrant."  
  
"You don't need one. You have me." Neal put on his most charming smile. "Besides, who said I'd do anything illegal?"  
  
Diana gave him a look.  
  
"Maybe we can see something through the window."  
  
"Maybe," Diana conceded. "Or maybe we'll spook him and that would be the end of that."  
  
Neal slumped back in his seat. "Fine. How about I get us a coffee instead?"  
  
"Neal, you're not leaving the car."  
  
Neal frowned. "You don't trust me."  
  
"I trust you to want to bring Campbell down."  
  
"That's not what I meant," Neal grouched.  
  
"Yeah, but that's the trust that counts. I don't have that much experience with CIs, but believe me, there's very few felons I'd trust to have my back."  
  
Neal and Diana exchanged a glance.  
  
Diana continued. "FBI work is more than just running a con, Neal. We need to establish Campbell's schedule before we move on him."  
  
Neal sighed. Back to boring surveillance it was.  
  
After a few more silent minutes ticked by, Diana cleared her throat. "Christie... she wants to go back to D.C."  
  
That caught Neal's attention. "And you don't?"  
  
Diana shrugged. "D.C. was okay, I guess, but it was a desk job, and it's right by my parents."  
  
"So..." Neal tried putting the pieces together. "Christie's pressuring you to move back?"  
  
"No, she's okay with it. I mean, she prefers to go back, but she doesn't push too much."  
  
Neal still couldn't see the problem. "But?"  
  
Diana cleared her throat. "But, I mean, she wrote me now about her annoying boss, and I-"  
  
Neal's eyes lit in understanding. "You can't complain."  
  
"Yeah." Diana was surprised at herself for the relief she felt at being able to put it in words. "Because if I complain too much, then it just leads to the whole 'why stay' conversation."  
  
"Sounds familiar."  
  
Diana raised an eyebrow. "It does?"  
  
"Yeah. If I complain too much, Peter tells me I can always go back to jail instead."  
  
Diana snorted at the comparison.  
  
Neal tapped his temple. "Your anklet is right here."  
  
Diana wasn't impressed. "Really deep. Did you get that off the back of a cereal box?"  
  
Neal grinned. "Don't diss Fruit Loops, it could change your life."  
  
"I'm sure." Diana thought it over. "So... the anklet's in my head?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"And how do you cut it?"  
  
Neal glanced at her.  
  
"We have until midnight," she prompted.  
  
Neal smiled. Maybe it wasn't going to be such a boring stakeout after all.


End file.
